Pokémon Go Home

I’m sure most everyone has heard something or another about Pokémon Go by now. KR and I downloaded it last Sunday to check it out — ya know, just for kicks-and-giggles. We goofed off with it throughout the day around the house but didn’t make much progress. The game rewards getting out and about to find imaginary beasts to capture. It has the potential to take gaming to a different level. It’s much like a scavenger hunt, and I like that about it.

Tonight, there was an event at the Depot museum in Cookeville, a pizza/Pokémon Go party before the movie at the Depot. Usually, I enjoy these types of events because they get me out of my comfort zone and at least, around people; but today, I struggled to make myself leave the house. I didn’t even go on my usual Friday afternoon hike. I did an hour of yoga at home instead. Yet, I made myself go to the Depot anyway, despite that uneasy feeling I often get over leaving my home. I walked around downtown for about 45 minutes, with the intent of getting an ice cream cone at Cream City and watching tonight’s movie afterward.

I’m not really sure when that feeling took over. I felt exposed — like “you’re-such-a-pathetic-loner” exposed. If I had to properly label it, I guess it was a feeling of sadness (lonely, inadequate?) and fear (insecure, foolish, embarrassed, discouraged). By the time I got back to Cream City, the line was out the door. It’s a small space. I stood in line for only a few minutes before bolting. The crowd was too much. I left — no ice cream, no movie. I left and came back home.

I didn’t want a repeat of Monday. I hate having panic attacks in public. Usually, I can fake it well enough so no one notices when I’m having a panic attack. Monday afternoon was different. I felt trapped. The doorway was blocked by a crowd of people. The little girl in the waiting area having a meltdown reminded me of me at that age. Her mother’s comments about her being a bad little girl for the whole room to hear caused me to empathize with the child despite her overwhelming shrieks.

I’m not sure if all of this is a symptom of social anxiety or PTSD, but I simply wasn’t up for being around people tonight. Lately, I haven’t been up for much at all.